


Nothing Wrong With Kissing

by TellMeNoAgain



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25629391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellMeNoAgain/pseuds/TellMeNoAgain
Summary: OrenjiiPH said I shouldn't write her a birthday fic.That's fine.  Today's not her birthday.  HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY FIC, OrenjiiPH!  (one of your friends connected with me via email to request it and said you like kissing Peter, sooooo I ran with it)~~~~Peter is a slut for kissing.It’s true.Ned knows it.  MJ knows it.Hell, half of his eighth grade class knew it, after Derek Highland’s birthday party, and then the next year, they’d told the rest of the freshman class, and then, well-He’s not even ashamed of it.Kissing never hurt anyone, anyway.Nothing wrong with a little kissing.
Relationships: Peter Parker/The Avengers
Comments: 26
Kudos: 184





	Nothing Wrong With Kissing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OrenjiiDonutss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrenjiiDonutss/gifts).



> OrenjiiPH, HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, hope you enjoy!
> 
> Beta'd by mindwiped, who, I swear, does not sleep. mindwiped is the Great Editing Eye, lidless, ALL SEEING. THANK YOU, mindwiped!!!

Peter is a slut for kissing. 

It’s true. 

Ned knows it. MJ knows it.

Hell, half of his eighth grade class knew it, after Derek Highland’s birthday party, and then the next year, they’d told the rest of the freshman class, and then, well-

He’s not even ashamed of it.

Kissing never hurt anyone, anyway.

Nothing wrong with a little kissing.

~~~

“God, Peter, I cannot believe we are skipping class to go to Comic Con,” squeals Ned, his face lit up with glee. He looks completely adorkable in his Wreck It Ralph cosplay, with the strap hanging down and the foam fists huge on his hands.  
  
“And I cannot believe how much of a loser you both are, singularly and together,” sighs MJ, straightening her leather jacket and blinking her white contacts, checking her fauxhawk in the mirror for Storm accuracy.

“And _I_ can’t believe you picked a real, living person to _cosplay_ ,” says Peter again, still scandalized.

MJ shrugs. “She’s badass, people write stories about her, she’s several memes, and she’s all over TV.”

“And she’s _real_ ,” protests Peter.

“If I kiss you, will you shut up about it?” sighs MJ.

Actually--- “Yes,” promises Peter firmly.

She leans in, and Ned says, “Ooh! Me next!”

~~~

Flash slams him into a locker and says, “Did you tell _no one_ again today, Parker?”

“Of course I didn’t,” spits Peter. “You act like it’s this big deal, Flash, but it’s-”

Flash glares at him, shaking him by the collar. “No one, Parker. No one today, and no one tomorrow, and-”

“I get it!” interrupts Peter, scowling. “I get it, Flash,” he says, softer. “I don’t mind being your secret.”

“You’re not my anything,” says Flash, and then he dips his head, licking into Peter’s mouth.

Well, that works for Peter.

~~~

The sounds of the party are louder than they should be in this closet, thinks Peter, as outside the girls cry, “3-2-1!” in unison.  
  
“Seven minutes!” they shout, and the door flies open, Betty falling out with a squeak.

“Ooh, sorry, didn’t mean to lean you against the door,” apologizes Peter. “Thought that was the wall.”

“No problem,” she gasps, smiling up at him.

“Who’s next?” asks Rylan.

“Ian!” squeals Betty.

Ian startles, and looks at Peter, half hopeful, half terrified.

“C’mon,” Peter says, although his lips are already chapped and he’s so thirsty, “your seven minutes starts now.”

“This isn’t how we played it back in Missouri,” says Yennifer.

“That’s because you didn’t have Peter Parker,” Rylan tells her, sounding smug.

“Timer’s set,” calls Eve.

Ian scrambles up and takes Peter’s hand, muttering, “I’ve- I’ve never-”

“It’s okay,” Peter assures him. “I have. Lots. I’ll show you how.”

~~~

Surprisingly, Tony Stark is not the first Avenger Peter kisses.

Neither is Black Widow.

“I can help you with that,” Peter says to Bruce Banner. “For science, there’s-”

“No, I don’t think a machine or a mannequin will be able to simulate the experience,” muses Bruce. “But thanks for the off-” he looks down at Peter’s hand, resting on his arm, and then up at Peter’s face. 

“No, I meant,” says Peter, smiling what he knows is a pretty winning smile, he wins all the time with it, “I can _help_ you get that data.”

“Aw, Peter, that’s, uh, nice,” stammers Bruce. “But you don’t have to-”

Peter shrugs. “I know that. I don’t mean, like, I’m not trying to hit on you. I just, you need a human test subject, to measure your heart-rate, or you’re never going to know. I’m the least likely to get harmed, if it rises above the safety threshold. Healing factor.”

“Oh,” says Bruce, the tips of his ears flushing pale pink, and then he blinks. “Uh. Yeah, let’s, let’s talk parameters.”

It’s not even the first time Peter uses actual, real science to slide his tongue between an older man’s lips.

~~~

The next time is a bit of a surprise, though.

“So, here’s what I’m proposing,” says Banner, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “No, sorry, wrong word.”

“I ain’t _kissing_ you,” grunts Bucky, glaring at the wall beside Banner’s left elbow.

“No, no, of course not, I’m, uh, acting as your doctor, that would be _wildly_ inappropriate,” agrees Banner. “No, I have a, um, subject, who’s done this kind of work in the past and who-”

Peter sighs and walks over to Bucky, dropping into the metal chair across from him and waving his hand once, awkwardly. “You can’t hurt me. Healing factor, like you and Steve, and I’m faster than you or Steve, I’ll just, jump back, web you or something,” he says bluntly. 

“We really do believe it’s a planted trigger, Bucky,” says Banner softly. “I wouldn’t- we wouldn’t ask, otherwise.”

Bucky eyes him much less suspiciously than he’d been looking at Banner and then says to Banner, “Don’t you got any ladies?”

Peter sighs, “It’s the 21st Century, sergeant. Lips are just lips.”

Bucky glares at the wall some more and then says, “Alright, talk. How are we gonna-”

“Like this,” says Peter, leaning forward, putting a hand on Bucky’s thigh, and pressing their lips together.

It takes three or four tries, but they get the trigger to flip, and then it takes a dozen more to figure out _why_ , and five more to figure out how to get rid of the trigger, and then, well, two more just to be absolutely sure.

The three after that are only because Bucky’s a really, really good kisser. Peter secretly loves it when the other person pulls his hair and Bucky’s got a grip like a drowning man.

Definitely top ten, of all time.

Oooh, baby, that _super soldier stamina_.

~~~

Natasha approaches him on the Jet, as he’s making an upgrade. “The soldat says you are a very good kisser, very willing,” she says, by way of greeting.

“I am,” Peter agrees, snarling at the stupid conduit and hitting it with the spanner until it sinks in, a perfect fit. He nods, and then looks up at her. “Did you want to-?”

“Yes,” she says shortly. “He is an excellent judge.”

“Here?” asks Peter, looking around the hard floor of the Quinjet.

She kicks the panel behind her and the door closes.

“Here,” she says simply.

“Works for me,” he tells her, sitting up.

“Let us hope _you_ work for _me_ ,” she murmurs, placing one careful hand on his chest, fingers splayed.

“Yes, _ma’am_ ,” he responds reverently.

“Good start,” she smiles.

~~~

“You kissed her,” accuses Clint, for the fourth time.

“Yes,” sighs Peter. It’s starting to get old. He squints and tosses a web, and Clint scoffs at the trajectory. Peter winces. Yeah. He deserved that. He can do better.

Well, he would probably do better if Clint would _focus_.

“If I kiss you, too, will that shut you up?” he asks, squinting up at the other man.

Clint rocks back on his heels, shock splashing across his face, fingers tensing and then relaxing in a signal Peter recognizes very well. 

_Oooh._

Peter repeats the question quieter, adding a hint of breathlessness to his tone, “If I kiss you too, Clint, will that _shut you up_?” he demands this time.

It doesn’t. Clint is just a talker. Peter’s fine with that, it makes a nice contrast to Natasha’s intense and absolute silence.

~~~

Thor is laughing, holding out a horn of mead to Peter. “And this! This, my young spider warrior, is how a victory is meant to be celebrated! Boon companions, heavy tables, and excellent drink!”

Peter drinks deeply, wiping the back of his hand against his mouth when he’s done. _God, that tastes good_ , he thinks blearily. Or, well, he thinks he thinks it, anyway.

“I do taste good,” laughs Thor, much quieter, a deep rumble in Peter’s ear. His face is too close, or, or something, thinks Peter. If Peter turns his head, he could- he could-

“Did you know, Peter Parker, Spider Warrior of Midguard, that I am the god of thunder, and also, among my many titles and awards, the god of fertility?” asks Thor.

“I did not,” admits Peter, squinting at the tapestry on the other side of Thor’s bedchamber. The picture embroidered on it makes _so much more sense_ , with that information, though. He turns his head, his nose touching Thor’s, and- and that should be funny. That would be funny. But- but it’s not, right now.

Thor’s eyes are smiling. “Shall I teach you, Peter Parker, something about being a handmaiden?”

Peter’s head is spinning, so he’s pretty sure he should say no, but-- “Is there kissing?” he asks breathlessly.

“Quite a bit,” the god of thunder assures him.

“Oh, then, _yes_ ,” Peter says.

It turns out, handmaiden duties are highly respected in Asgard, and he kisses a _lot_ of aliens before Heimdall sends him home. It’s a very good week, for Peter Parker.

~~~

“Sshhh,” Peter says, soothing the other man. “It’s okay, we can just kiss. It doesn’t have to go any further.”

“Tony’ll kill me for it getting _this_ far,” mutters the man.

“Nah, Tony doesn’t have to know,” Peter assures him quietly. “Don’t you- you guys have that don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy, right?”

“Kid, it is not 1998,” sighs the man. “The military has adapted to the changing social mores of-”

“Lecture later, lips now,” interrupts Peter, whispering, feeling a thrill of fear at being _discovered_.

He loves kissing in closets. He’s the _master_ of kissing in closets.

Even if Rhodey does take up an awful lot more than seven minutes of his time at this party.

~~~

“Look, there’s nothing wrong with being a virgin,” Peter says stoutly. “And you’re being a real shit right now, Hawkeye, so go, go sleep it off or whatever.”

He closes the door firmly, and Steve sighs, “Thanks, Peter.”

“Yeah, no problem. Sorry he was, uh, being Clint,” says Peter, shrugging. There really is nothing else to say. The man is a walking wreck of a human being but, well, he literally grew up in a circus. That’s the next thing to being raised by wolves, as far as Peter can tell.

“You two seem to get along well,” Steve says politely. “He listens to you.”

Peter snorts. “Sometimes, Captain Rogers.”

“You don’t- you don’t have to call me that,” Steve reminds him, but there’s something about the way he shifts in his chair, something that catches Peter’s eye, reminds him of Ian, and Franklin, and even Ned, the first few times.

 _Ohhhh, really_ , he thinks, sitting back, his mind racing. “Sorry,” he tries, and then, “I just- there’s nothing wrong with being respectful, either.”

Steve huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “No, I guess there isn’t.”

This is gonna be a tough nut to crack, thinks Peter, because Steve’s an expert at strategy, and also an expert at martyrdom. 

“I’m a virgin,” he tells Steve, figuring the best way is full brutal honesty. Steve’s eyes fly up to Peter’s, startled. Good start.

“But, if you want to, uh, shut him up, like, once and for all, I know a trick,” Peter offers, shrugging one shoulder and tipping his head to the side.

~~~

Steve high fives him a week later and Peter smiles back, saying, “That’s great, Captain Rogers! I’m- I’m glad it worked for you, too!”

Steve ruffles his hair and says, “Stop callin’ me that. Especially _now_.”

Peter notices the way his lips are a little puffy, a little chapped. Well, Clint has that thing with biting. He leans in and mutters, “If you put petroleum jelly on them, it works better than any chapstick.”  
  
Steve startles and then nods, saying quietly, “Good to know. Thanks.”

Peter beams at him. 

~~~

Sam confronts him later that month.

“Look, I know you did the thing for Banner with Bucky, but you’re not some, like, sex therapist, Peter.”

“I know that,” says Peter patiently, eating his poptart with wide eyes for all the energy Sam is bringing at him at 6 in the morning.

“And I’m not saying what you did was, was unethical or wrong,” Sam says firmly.

“No, I know, I checked, there’s nothing wrong with kissing,” Peter assures him.

There’s a long pause, then, before Sam says, much more weakly, “Yeah, yes, there’s nothing wrong with kissing.”

“Because that’s all I did,” Peter reminds him, rubbing his eyes on his sweatshirt sleeve, trying to wake up a bit more. “I don’t- he can stay a virgin, it wasn’t about that _at all_. I’m still a virgin, there’s nothing wrong with me!”

“No,” agrees Sam, and he sounds even less confident. “No, you’re good.”

 _Bingo_.

Peter tilts his head and licks the crumbs off of his lips, putting the poptart carefully down on the counter he’s sitting on. “I am good,” he says, slowly, looking at Sam’s mouth, and then up to Sam’s eyes. Sam’s eyes are trained on his face, but, well, but not on his _eyes_. “So, did- what did you want to talk to me about, Mr. Wilson?” he asks the man, leaning back a careful half-inch and watching the man sway an inch towards him.

 _Gotcha_ , he thinks smugly, licking his lips again.

“Um,” says Sam.

“Kissing?” asks Peter, scrunching up his face in confusion. “Or- or something else?”

“Something else,” says Sam distractedly.

But Peter’s right. They end up talking about kissing. Well, they end up analyzing the social _norms_ of kissing, right after Peter gasps, “I did _not_ consent to tongue fucking, Mr. Wilson.”

Which is okay, because it turns out, Peter’s _okay_ with tongue fucking, he just really thinks his partner should _ask first_ , as, like, a courtesy.

~~~

He leaves Happy to his Aunt May.

 _Ew_.

~~~

When he walks into the Team meeting, he can tell right away that some balance has shifted while he was out swinging through the city, preventing crime and doing the right thing.

Bucky’s jaw clenches, and that’s the first sign, and Banner retreats immediately to an experiment that needs his immediate attention _immediately_ in the lab, and that’s the second one. Natasha and Clint both snicker at each other, hands flashing through signs so fast that his one-semester-of-ASL can’t keep up.

He lifts his chin and walks over to Steve, muttering, “Okay, what’s up?”

Steve _winces_. “Tony’s, uh, Tony’s-”

“Tony’s _ticked_ , spiderling,” says Tony, turning around in the chair at the head of the table and putting his hands on the table. “Because you are barely an adult,” there are several winces around the room, Peter notes with a feeling of exasperation, “and we have rules in place to protect the powerless from victimization.”

“Oh,” says Peter, tilting his head. “Is this about the kissing?” Several more winces, and c’mon, people. _Really?_

“This is about the kissing,” agrees Tony, his eyes flashing around the room, his posture radiating a good dressing down is seconds from happening, now that he’s _confirmed_ it.

“Because I’ll say I’m sorry, but I don’t think anyone here was a victim. I got consent. Heck, Mr. Stark, there was paperwork, for a few of them.” He turns to look at Sam, who raises his head and cocks an eyebrow. “Well, and it turns out there’s societal norms, too, that dictate that there are ways of requesting permission without verbal consent, used in subcultures where-”

“Peter Parker,” booms Tony, and then the room is silent.

“Uh, yeah, Mr. Stark?” asks Peter.

“You are _barely_ an adult,” Tony tells him.

“I am an adult, though,” Peter reminds him, staring right back at him, baffled. Around the room, several spines straighten. _Yeah, that’s right, guys_ , he thinks at them. _There’s nothing wrong with adults kissing each other, remember?_ “I didn’t- I didn’t kiss _anyone_ when they could get in trouble for it. I wouldn’t _do_ that, Mr. Stark,” he says, letting the hurt rise in his voice, just a bit, letting it show.

Tony clears his throat. “That’s not- that’s not what I’m saying. You’re not in trouble.”

“Oh,” says Peter. He hesitates and then asks, “So… so what _are_ you saying? Because- because if _I_ can’t be in trouble, for kissing _them_ , because I’m an adult, then- I mean, they’re even more of an adult than I am. Well. Maybe not Clint.”

Natasha’s hands fly so fast that Peter’s pretty sure _Clint_ can’t read them, but her smile says everything anyone would ever need to know about what she’s thinking.

“I-” says Tony, and then he stops, and says, “I am tabling this issue. For consideration.”

“Okay,” Peter agrees. “But I’m not in trouble?”

“How can you be?” asks Natasha with a warm smile for him, her eyes alight with humor. “You are an adult.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with kissing,” adds Steve firmly.

“Right,” says Tony, into the pause, and then he brings up the agenda.

Peter slides into place in his seat, at Tony’s right hand, and thinks, _wow_.

He wonders if Tony realizes how _transparent_ he had been.

He meets Rhodey’s eyes across the room and Rhodey winks, lifting his chin and pursing his lips, tipping his head in Tony’s direction afterwards.

Peter rolls his eyes and snorts. Well, yeah, of course he’s going to do that.

He just has to check in, first.

~~~

“Can you _what_?” asks Pepper, her forehead crinkling.

“You heard me,” Peter says confidently. “Or, well, I mean, you heard me _correctly_ , Ms. Potts.”

“Why- why are you asking me?” she says, faintly.

“Because I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” says Peter firmly.

“When you kiss Tony,” she says, faintly.

“Yes.”

“So you’re asking my permission?” she says.

He thinks about it. “Well, sort of? I don’t- Tony’s an adult.”

“He is by several definitions, _not_ ,” she scoffs.

“Well, okay, he’s legal, to, uh, kiss,” tries Peter.

Pepper nods for him to continue.

“And I don’t think adults should have to, I mean, you don’t _own_ him.”

She murmurs, “Very true.”

“So, if it won’t hurt you, because I don’t want to hurt you, can I ask Tony if I can kiss him?” repeats Peter, sighing because the simple question has gotten more garbled in the second try. It always did.

Pepper sat back in her chair. “If he says yes, I’d like a thank you kiss, at some point.”

“Done,” says Peter. “You’re sure it won’t hurt you?” 

“Peter, nothing, and I mean this with all sincerity, would thrill me more. Go have at,” she says, waving her stylus at him and bending back to the open screen hovering above her desk.

He’s almost to the door, steps bouncing a little, when she calls, “Good luck!”

“Won’t need it,” he tells her confidently, and loves the way she snorts.

~~~

The thing is, he’s seen the sex tapes. Well, not all of them, God, that would take, uh, months, of like, full-time porn watching. But the good ones, anyway, the ones that get pinned and repinned, the ones they make into gifs, the, like, the high-quality ones.

So he knows Tony is, you know, kind of a slut for kissing, too.

He’s therefore surprised when it’s actually pretty hard to convince the man to kiss him.

~~~

“But, listen, Mr. Stark, there’s like this thing-”

“Between us,” grunts Tony, shoving at the wrench and glaring at it.

“Yes,” agrees Peter. “Between us, and so I was thinking-”

“Kiss it out,” suggests Tony.

_Exactly!_

“Exactly,” says Peter.

“No.”

_Wait, what?_

~~~

“I don’t care what charts you pull up, kid, the answer is no,” says Tony.

“But-”

“No.”

“It’s science, though, real science!” yells Peter at his back.

“Not my field!” Tony calls back.

~~~

“Give it a rest,” sighs Tony. “Just- look, kid, ‘m drunk, sure, but ‘m not gonna kiss you. Don’t you have that thing, for- for consent?”

“Usually,” sighs Peter, flopping back in the booth.

“Hey, she’s cute, go kiss her,” suggests Tony.

She is cute.

Peter goes.

It’s just kissing, after all.

Nothing wrong with kissing.

~~~

“What is _up_ with this creepy obsession, Underoos?” snarls Tony.

“It’s not-” stammers Peter.

“It is. It’s creepy, and I’m asking you: cease and desist,” says Tony. And he says it like he means it.

 _Huh_.

~~~

Peter stops trying, _immediately_. It’s okay to ask, but you can’t be a creep about it.

Pepper sighs at him and says, “Should have taken the luck.”

Yeah. Yeah, he regrets that, now.

~~~

And the thing is, it’s just kissing, so it’s not a big deal, he stops asking and it’s easy to stop thinking about it, too. There’s so many people in the world who are willing, it’s _weird_ for Mr. Stark not to want to, but, well, it’s not like Peter’s sitting at home pining about it.

Far from it.

~~~

“God,” she sighs, “I love that you love kissing. Some guys, they just-”

“-I know,” gushes Peter. “I know, it’s the _worst_. Straight to, you know, and I don’t _do_ that stuff, so it gets all awkward.”

“Don’t do what stuff?” asks the girl, the next time they come up for air.

“Hmm, what?” asks Peter.

“You don’t do _what_ stuff?” she asks.

“Oh, you know, there’s nothing wrong with kissing, but I don’t, like, go further.”

It’s not the first time he’s lost a kissing partner, and probably won’t be the last. Greener pastures, after all.

Still, she’d had a great tongue.

It’s a loss. He mourns it.

Luckily, there’s Bucky and his grabby hands.

~~~

“You still kissin’ Bucky?” asks Tony.

“What? ...Yes,” confirms Peter.

“Kinky,” says Tony.

“No, poly,” corrects Pepper.

“Neither. It’s just kissing,” says Peter, baffled. As if he’d steal Captain Roger’s boyfriend.

“Just kissing,” hums Tony.

“Yeah, just kissing, Mr. Stark,” huffs Peter, rolling his eyes.

“You can call him Tony,” Pepper reminds him.

“He likes it when I call him Mr. Stark,” Peter says, confused.

She concedes the point with a raised eyebrow, and Tony avoids him for the rest of the week.

 _Huh_.

~~~

“So, I don’t get it,” says Peter quietly, in the stillness of the workshop. “And I’m sorry, I’m not trying to pressure you, I just- there’s signals. And I don’t, I can’t not see them.”

“Signals,” repeats Tony.

“Yeah, I’m not dumb, you’re not dumb, and you can try to hide a lot of things, but body language usually gives it away, Mr. Stark.” _Like that_ , thinks Peter. Like the small shiver every time Peter says the name.

“Signals,” repeats Tony. “And these signals you’re reading, they tell you I want to kiss you?”

“Yeah,” says Peter defensively, looking up at the man. “They do.”

“Well, they’re wrong,” says Tony. 

Peter flinches back, stung by the _lie_.

Tony stalks forward, and puts a hand on either side of Peter on the workbench, eyes blazing. Peter steels himself for rejection, although he’d been so careful not to _push_ , like a creep.

“I don’t want to _kiss_ you, Peter Parker,” snorts Tony. “I mean, yes, I want to do that, too, that’d be part of what I want.”

Peter’s heart beats wildly with hope. “Part of-”

“Yeah,” says Tony. “But only, like, part of it. And I don’t just want that one part.” 

“Oh,” says Peter, in a small voice. He squints up at Tony’s face. “Well, why didn’t you ask?”

“What?” splutters Tony. 

“I could do more. With you,” offers Peter, shrugging. “You’re- I mean. There’s nothing wrong with kissing, but, but I could- with you. Do more. Stuff.”

He winces. It’s definitely not his strongest delivery ever.

It still gets him kissed.

**Author's Note:**

> SO MUCH FLUFF.


End file.
